Thursday, 17 June 2010

THE LURE OF THE SILVER FOX...

There's something about a hint of salt and pepper than makes a girl weak at the knees. I think it's the suggestion that along with a sprinkling of steel comes a worldliness and manliness that is quite irresistible. It's the unwavering confidence of Jose Mourinho, the knowing twinkle of George Clooney, the innate elegance of Cary Grant. You can be assured that this is a guy who has been around the block and knows exactly what he wants. He has honed his social skills, refined his business acumen and become a master between the sheets...One of my friends has a philosophy that you shouldn't consider a future with a male until he hits 35, because only then does he upgrade from boy to man. I fancy that it's the scattering of silver that should be the true sign.

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I want to sashay out of the kitchen with a platter of freshly baked scones… in five-inch heels and a push-up bra. My lips will be scarlet, my pencil skirts a little snug, yet my bed linen crisply white and my homegrown blooms artfully arranged. Forget the dilemma that faced the females of the 60s – “will I be perfectly prim Jackie Kennedy or lusciously languorous Marilyn Monroe?” – I’m a thoroughly modern woman and I want to have it all! Of course the baking, eyelash fluttering, handwritten correspondence and cocktail drinking has to fit around my day job (Entertainment Editor for GLAMOUR magazine), and my purse (mini breaks before thread counts), oh and my attention span (knitting = no way). But as I already spend every day deciding whether to channel Betty or Joan, sharing recipes and shoe envy with my pals and have written an etiquette guide called L Is For Lady and a self-help tome, How To Be A Sex Goddess, I figure I’ve got this domestic seductress thing in the bag (almost!).